I can tell you some things you can't see, and that the kids can't see either, even though these things are in plain sight. You can't see the massive debt it takes to sustain this life since the dot-com world collapsed. You can't see the dark circles under the cameraman's eyes, formed as he works sixty hours a week just to tread water. You can't see the levees breaking in his home town. You can't feel his survivor's guilt, his anxiety over not being home in New Orleans. You can't taste his desperate need to get back, to do something important, something worthwhile. Something, anything but twenty more years of sixty hour weeks making software that helps rich people get richer. You can't see the continual dance of invisible jab and parry that makes up his marriage, and you can’t feel his growing suspicion that the bottle he put down was the glue that once held it together.You can't see the bear trap that has sunk its jaws deep into his ankle. You can't see the bite marks on his leg, the tentative places where he's started to gnaw, just a little bit, testing, wondering if he might one day be able to chew it all the way off and, on one foot, run free.

I can tell you some things you can't see, and that the kids can't see either, even though these things are in plain sight. You can't see the massive debt it takes to sustain this life since the dot-com world collapsed. You can't see the dark circles under the cameraman's eyes, formed as he works sixty hours a week just to tread water. You can't see the levees breaking in his home town. You can't feel his survivor's guilt, his anxiety over not being home in New Orleans. You can't taste his desperate need to get back, to do something important, something worthwhile. Something, anything but twenty more years of sixty hour weeks making software that helps rich people get richer. You can't see the continual dance of invisible jab and parry that makes up his marriage, and you can’t feel his growing suspicion that the bottle he put down was the glue that once held it together.You can't see the bear trap that has sunk its jaws deep into his ankle. You can't see the bite marks on his leg, the tentative places where he's started to gnaw, just a little bit, testing, wondering if he might one day be able to chew it all the way off and, on one foot, run free.